5 senses
by halbarath
Summary: This is a very small short story. Not really drabbles but almost. My favorite characters' thoughts based upon the 5 senses. 4 parts all in all.
1. Smell and Sight

A/N : as always, Loveless belongs to Kouga Yun. I'm merely borrowing her characters for the pleasure.

 **SMELL**

The acrid smell of blood was familiar. It was comforting in its repetition. It was forever the same, be it his own or someone else's.

Smoke was pungent. It stung his eyes, his lugs, his nose. It clang to everything but faded away quickly. It was like him. Needed but disliked. Present but unaccounted for.

Paint smell was homey. It was soothing. He liked it.

Then there was his scent. He loved it so much it felt inappropriate. he would sniff his unit and his worries would recede. He would get a whiff off him as they walked and his day would be brighter. It was unnatural how such a small thing could bring him such joy.

Smell was definitely a wonderful sense.

 **SIGHT**

He was bored. Mostly he was troubled. And he was day-dreaming again. He looked out of the window and contemplated the scenery.

Autumn was there already with all its astonishing hues. The falling leaves would definitely make a terrific painting. he watched the sun rays lazily cover everything in their unique oblique light, draping the world in pastels and making it appear softer. It was lovely.

And as he swept the framed view offered to him with his eyes, he spotted the most striking feature of this wonderful scene. His heart swelled and his soul stirred within him. There, as always, standing guard with the air of one untroubled with the world and a relaxed posture, there stood a lonely figure, the fairest he had ever met.

It would surely break his heart if one day, he wasn't able to look at his Fighter ever again.


	2. Taste

A/N : as always, Loveless belongs to Kouga Yun. I'm merely borrowing her characters for the pleasure.

 **TASTE**

He positively loved it.

The sweetness was addictive.

The smoothness was intoxicating.

The sensation was heaven. The pleasure was intense.

He swirled his tongue against it, tasting and enjoying the savour.

He delighted in melting it.

The moisture. The wetness. The delectation.

But all too soon, the rapture came to an end.

The taste lingered some more and he licked his lips appreciatively, his tongue and mouth tingling still.

He most assuredly was hooked. But he was a happy, blissful junkie.

 _A/N : When I began to write it, I had a kiss between Ritsuka and Soubi in mind. But it very quickly became obvious to me I was thinking about Kio and his lollipops instead._


	3. Sound

A/N : as always, Loveless belongs to Kouga Yun. I'm merely borrowing her characters for the pleasure.

 **SOUND**

Sound was rhythmic. Sound was slashing. Sound was hurting.

Whack, whack, whack, whack... The steady rhythm was painful.

Whack, whack made the whip on his back.

Whack, whack made the cuts and the slaps.

Whack, whack made the unwanted thrusts.

Whack, whack made the blade into his neck.

Whack, whack the words onto his flesh.

Whack, whack made the shattered pieces of his heart each time they trampled on it.

Whack, whack made his unshed tears on his soul when he was refused to die.

Whack, whack made on his heart the lies he had to tell.

Whack, whack made the betrayal in his eyes.

Whack, whack

Swish, swish made his Sacrifice as he was sleeping against him.

Thump, thump made his heart faced with such trust and affection.

Sound was rhythmic. Sound was easy.

xxxx

Sound was rhythmic. Sound was thumping. Sound was soothing.

Tick, tock, tick, tock... The steady rhythm was hypnotic.

Tick, tock made the clock in her office.

Tick, tock made the pen he tapped on his homework.

Tick, tock made his tears on the ground as he wept on his brother's grave.

Tick, tock made the wheels in his mother's head.

Tick, tock made his soul as it counted time before his Doppelgänger made himself known again.

Tick, tock made the drops as the scalding water fell on him harshly.

Tick, tock made their shoes on the pavement as he walked him home in the silent night.

Tick, tock made his teeth as he slowly chewed, staring at his mom.

Tick, tock made the rain that drenched him to the bone.

Tick, tock made his heart in his chest.

Tick, tock

Thump, thump made his Fighter's heart under his hand.

Sound was rhythmic. Sound was soothing.


	4. Touch

A/N : as always, Loveless belongs to Kouga Yun. I'm merely borrowing her characters for the pleasure.

 **TOUCH**

He had a very ambiguous relation to touch.

His heart remembered the caring touch of a loving parent. The reassuring hugs, the steady presence, the carefree and innocent touches. The caress of a warm breath soothing a nightmare or a pain. A light hand rubbing his back. A bigger hand holding his own. His heart never forgot. The impression was everlasting. His heart was buried alongside his parents.

His body remembered the harsh touches of another. The slicing leather of a whip. The cold metal of a blade. Ritsu scarred his body. His touch had been — wrong. All the time. He knew how to be soft and gentle and caring. He knew it but had never bestowed it upon him. He had been dismissive of his child-self. He had been abusive of his younger self. He had been cruel to his 17-years-old self. His body disconnected.

His mind remembered the spiteful touch of words. The orders given to cause discomfort. The shaming orders. The orders his heart went against. The dismissal. The lack of concern. The utter absence of recognition. The loneliness. The degrading comments. The negative attitude. He hadn't forgotten. He couldn't forget. Beloved indeed. His mind shut everything out.

His soul recognized this touch. It was pure and uncontrolled. It was avid and rash and sweet and gentle all at the same time. It was demanding but freely given. It was soft and shy. It was needy and comforting. It was a touch that stirred his frozen, broken, hidden heart. A touch that traced the scars as if it could erase them, that soothe the skin and whispered pleasure to it. A touch that tentatively reached out to his mind, coaxing it out, showering it with sweet promises and caring words. A touch that moved his soul and made it weep with sorrow, pain, regret, hope, love and protectiveness for this new, soft, sweet, better caretaker.

xxxxxxx

It took him years to understand.

He hadn't known then how to accept love because he only remembered his mother's hatred, his father's absence and his classmates' rejection. When he had met him, he had been given a slice of happiness and he hadn't known how to accept the gift or what to do with it.

Soubi was the same. With touch. He only remembered pain. Pain given by his guardian. Unbelievable pain and ultimate betrayal. Then he had met Seimei. A whole new level of pain was reached. But he supposed the worst was Seimei's total freakiness about touch. A Fighter adulates his Sacrifice. Touch is important to bond. But Seimei would not be touched. Ever. Under no circumstances whatsoever. He wouldn't deliver blows as punishments. He wouldn't touch his Fighter, leaving him in a cruel limbo. And Soubi had been punished. Often. Because he couldn't curb his instinct to check his Sacrifice for wounds or injuries. Long, harsh punishments to break this caring streak out of him.

He had often wondered about the blood on his balcony. They had barely known each other then. But the incident had bothered him. For a long time. Because it was one of the rare occurrences Soubi had expressed a personal desire. Now he knew : discipline had taken over his needs. Do not touch your Sacrifice. Do not dirty him. Under no circumstance. He must have been on the verge of collapsing and still, he had obeyed first, with that sad smile of his and this longing in his eyes. He had no wish to discover what training had resulted in such a rigorous mindset. 

He understood now why Soubi would touch him so much. He— his Sacrifice — allowed it, even liked it. And yet, it took Soubi so long to accept his touch. A touch not meant to harm.


End file.
